Coming Home
by ThePersonUnknown
Summary: She was old, and had obviously come to the end of her time, and she seemed content with the fact. But the thing that struck him, that confused him was the emptiness around her; no one was here to hold her hand. She seemed alone in that bed, with the echoing beat of the heart-pacer.


**A/N: I am so sorry for any broken hearts this causes, this is dedicated to myself, for the person I lost 20 years ago, to a drunk driver, I pray none of you must endure the pain it brings. Love is strong enough not only to brighten and chase away our pain, but also strong enough to shatter us in the process.**

_Star footballer._

_Youngest Cullen._

_Class clown._

...

"What's your name?"Jason sat beside the bed, gazing at the haggard woman, she was old, and had obviously come to the end of her time, and she seemed content with the fact. But the thing that struck him, that confused him was the emptiness around her; no one was here to hold her hand. She seemed alone in that bed, with the echoing beat of the heart-pacer.

...

_It's an odd feeling. Being numb. Like this tight, constricting layer of bubble wrap being squeezed around your heart, as you try and stop yourself from recognizing the pain, the hurt. You try to wake up, you laugh, because there's no way this could be happening. And you get angry, you scream, you shout when you see people living, like they're able to live their lives after this, and you wish they would stop, wish they would go back, rewind time and change things._

_But God it hurts._

_You were the bookworm, you had no enemies and no friends, and you were content with that, you were happy to be that person. I had dreams, safe dreams. Go to university, study literature, and pursue my life-long dream of being a famous writer. It was a warm, safe goal. _

_No heartbreak, no love, nothing to penetrate the sturdy wall you had built over my heart. It was normal._

_Then life throws a curve ball, a ball with dimples and a wide grin, and it knocks your books to the ground. And as you hear the laughter, you don't expect the large hands to lift you from the cold hall tiles, you watch amazed as they pick up your belongings and you barely comprehend when he offers to carry your stuff to your car._

_You're so caught off guard; you miss the small crack he created in your wall._

_You suspect him. When he asks you out, you think it's a dare, and people try to beat you down, ex-girlfriends, and friends. But he's always there to fight them off. He misses practice to sit in the library, and he's the reason you got detention in maths, because all night long, when you should've been doing homework, you were on the phone, talking to him. But then he deliberately gets himself in trouble, just so you won't be alone. You're scared to name it, but deep down you know its love, and it scares you._

_You meet his family, his sister becomes your best friend, and she's the one who teaches you how to love him without fear. His brother is older, a player and an alcoholic, and it's obvious that he wants you to choose him, but you're not interested, because no matter how many piercings he gets or how clever he seems, he'll never compare to how good it feels to have a bad day and be hugged by two strong, confident arms, a voice which tells you it's going to be okay._

_You're father is resistant of your relationship; he's as scared as you are, but as time passes even he can't deny how true your love for this boy is. _

_You've forgotten your fear, for surely how can something which seems to work so perfectly cause pain. You're not afraid to say I love you._

_I love you_

_I love you._

_Graduation comes, and rumours circle that a party will take place. You're not going; you've never been one for partying. You expect him to go though, all his friends will be there, and it isn't fair to hold him back. You've celebrated with your family, and everyone is gone. _

_The rain is heavy, the night black, and you've wrapped yourself in a thick duvet, with a pot of cookie-dough ice-cream. You're comfortable. When you hear a knock at the door._

_It's only 8:00pm, and the party would've ended at 12:00, so why is he standing, soaked at your doorstep. Grinning like an idiot. Not that you're unhappy he's there, just confused. He drags you into a soaked hug, and you grumble at your ruined pyjamas, but the complaint fades as your lips meet. He's freezing, but you can't pull away._

"_Happy Graduation Bells."_

_It's the first time you make love, every touch is long awaited, and he dedicates each touch to making you happy. You're ashamed to admit that you cried. _

_A year passes, and if you had foreseen life, you would've cherished it more. He's at work, and you're at home, when you get a call from him telling you he'll be late. _

_Something feels off, you feel queasy, nervous. But it's probably the sushi you ate, can't be anything else. You forget it soon after. Hours pass, and every glance at the clock, you wait to hear the door open._

_A drunk driver, a man with bronze hair speeding on the A1, he wasn't paying attention. You know who they're talking about. Then they tell you he was involved in an accident. The drunk survived, but the other, the jeep. You're standing by the door, staring at the oak, gritting your teeth._

_You begin to laugh, and you know something's wrong with your head, something's gone wrong inside. Because you're broken. You hang up, and you call his number, over and over and over and over again. He never picks up, he always picks up, but he didn't this time, and it was the one time she wished he would._

_She leaves messages._

"_Come home."_

"_Please, please come home!"_

"_Please, it's a joke, it's not funny!"_

_Silence meets her pleads, he never responded, she waited._

_The door never opened, and he never picked up, even after years, the thought is enough to crumble her._

_..._

Her face turns to look at the small boy, her brown, tired eyes gazing at him. Faintly she whispers, smiling. "You look so much like him." He's confused by her words, but an unconscious part of him reaches out to pat her hand, figuring she deserved someone to be with her.

"Are you waiting for someone?" H asks softly, and she smiles, nodding. "Yes, I've always been waiting for someone, he'll be here soon."

He doesn't respond, and as the seconds turn to minuets, to hours, he watches as her heart slows, her body growing weaker and weaker.

Finally a doctor wanders in, a solemn expression over his face. He has a syringe in his hand, and as he leans over her, her slitted eyes gaze up at him, a small smile over her face.

"You came home." She breathes, "You came to fetch me."

The doctor glances down at her sadly, knowing that although she was looking at him, she was speaking to someone else, and it devastated him how vulnerable she was.

"Yes, I came to bring you home Bella." He answered softly, inserting the needle into her arm, and pressing the liquid into her arms, her skin darkening with bruising where the metal penetrated. Her body stilled, and he stepped back, laying a hand over the boy's shoulder.

Her eyes flickered, and her head settled on the cushion comfortably. She looked peaceful, a gentle smile over her old face, and as her eyes began to droop, closing. Her mouth whispered softly. He leaned in, trying to catch her words. They were gentle and quite, and he had to strain to hear them.

"I love you Emmett."


End file.
